obtuse time (my weeks pass recklessly)

it would have been better.
we should have never known
intimate chariot
how my body has always known you.

you were always first.
so in that place you stay
and all the other
biting flowers and branded promises
are just hanging in the conversations
we linger in and lace around our days.

I can't be next
I breathe for you
and would
give
this lung
or fill yours with amniotic fluid

for only a day
making our bed
of ether and acorns
our pyre is an afternoon.